Distracting
by lightning bird
Summary: The only thing Mandark is focusing on in study hall is Dexter. DexDark. Contains mild slash, so if such things offend just move along. Written for YoshikoFuru's 'Books are Sexy' contest on deviantART.


**Distracting**

by lightning bird

A/N: This was written for YoshikoFuru's 'Books are Sexy' challenge posted on deviantART. The characters belong to Cartoon Network. I only own the story, which can be considered something of a sequel to _Tell Me No_.

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"Dexter."

"Hmm?"

"Stop that."

"Hmm? Stop what?"

"Stop . . . doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That!"

"Reading a book?"

"Do you have to read it so . . .?"

Dexter lifted his face from the history book he was so intent upon and focused his attention on a rather flushed and flustered Mandark sitting opposite him. He had no idea of what the older teen was hung up on right now, but he could not imagine what he was doing wrong. Then again, Mandark had a tendency to get hung up on the oddest things and it seemed as if he was having another such moment.

Prompted Dexter, "So . . . ?"

"So sexy!" snapped Mandark, then immediately shut his mouth and glanced around to be sure no one else in the study hall heard. They were in the library, tucked away in the far corner amidst math and science books, which almost guaranteed they would not be disturbed since they were just about the only ones in their high school that actually cared about such things.

He stared, eventually remembering to blink after half a minute or so. Under his astonished gaze Mandark's normally fair skin blushed pink all the way to his ears.

"I'm not doing anything sexy! I'm leaning on my hand and reading a book."

"Precisely!"

With a sigh of defeat Dexter closed the offending book. "Fine. Fine. I'll do my physics homework."

He pulled out his book and paper and began scribbling his calculation. As usual he was very quickly absorbed in the nuances of particle physics. He paused to reason now and then, tapping his pencil against his lips and whispering to himself occasionally as he bent over the problems.

"Dexter."

Pencil in mouth, he barely registered Mandark's sharp tone. "Hmm?"

"Stop that."

"Huh?" He looked up over the brim of his glasses.

"You're chewing on your pencil."

He hadn't noticed, but it was quite soggy, yes. "And?"

Mandark folded his arms across his chest and looked away, blushing again. "This isn't the place for that sort of conduct."

"What? Oh, you are too much, Mandark! Nibbling on a pencil is not sexy!"

"It is when you do it!"

This time he growled as he pushed the physics work aside. "All right. All right. I'm going to work on my English essay. Is that acceptable?"

"Just . . . don't move your lips or whisper to yourself. And don't chew on anything. And . . ."

"And?"

"It drives me crazy when I see anyone else's hand in your hair."

Positively blithering with disbelief, Dexter pointed and exclaimed, "But this is _my_ hand! And _my_ hair!"

"That and the fact that you wear gloves all the time are the only reasons I'm able to sit here and not slap your hand away."

He stared first at his oh-so-offensive hand in its purple glove and then at his fellow genius. His heavily accented voice dripped with sarcasm as he said, "As if people are lining up to run their fingers through my ginger tresses. Mandark, I love you dearly, but you're being ridiculous."

"I know! It's all your fault."

With a sigh and a groan Dexter pulled his chair in closer to the table and sat up straight, pulling out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen. He hesitated, then inquired,

"I'm going to breathe throughout this process. Is that all right?"

"Yes," snapped Mandark crossly.

He managed to get two sentences completed without having Mandark experience a meltdown, which was something of a victory at this stage. Dexter was just starting to feel smug. His homework was progressing and boyfriend was appeased. Tomorrow was Friday and if he didn't strangle him by the end of this period, he anticipated spending the whole weekend with Mandark.

For all he was possessive and territorial (not to mention uptight), Mandark was very sweet and endearing. Despite the fact that they had been seeing one another for a few months now, he still could not believe that Dexter was as in love with him as he was with Dexter (which was to say utterly, completely, stupidly in love) no matter how many times the younger teen told him in no uncertain terms that he was dead wrong. The thought of so silly a debate made the redhead smile to himself and he sat back in his uncomfortable chair, happily contemplating life in general and Mandark in particular.

They had both changed drastically from their elementary school days, and not just in their attitudes toward one another. Mandark had gone from a gawky, scrawny geek to a teenaged Apollo with an Asian twist. Dexter, meanwhile, took after his mother far too much to ever hope to be the tall beefy cake of his childhood dreams, but there was no denying he had completely cornered the market on good looks. He was envied and reviled not just for his intelligence and boyfriend, but also for the fact that anyone that breathed oxygen had to agree he was the cutest genius walking (though not necessarily the easiest to understand or get along with).

So he mused, and then he made the mistake of looking at his boyfriend.

"Whaaaat?' he whined as he scored his third Astronomonov glower of the day.

"Not the time or place for this, Dexter," reminded Mandark, his eyebrows arching in reprimand.

"I'm in study hall! This is the exact time and place for _doing my homework_!"

"Not the way you do homework!"

"Well doesn't that just make you wish you were my homework? I was reading! I was working on calculations! Now I'm trying to write and I can't even accomplish that! What can I do that will make you happy?"

Mandark smirked. It was a look, Dexter had to admit, that suited his sharp features and almond-shaped eyes, rendering him rather . . . sexy.

"Kiss me."

Open-mouthed, Dexter stared, realizing he had been set up and that he was being teased.

"What? All this aggravation for a kiss?" he demanded, torn between being insulted and pleased.

"What aggravation?" countered the older boy.

"All this saying I'm sexy was for naught?"

"On the contrary, Dexter," Mandark replied in a tone that invited no argument. If you're capable of doing anything I don't find completely distracting, I have yet to discover it."

He blinked. "Seriously?"

"Absolutely."

He considered for a long moment. "I know what you mean." He pursed his lips, thinking. "A kiss?"

Slowly Mandark smiled and leaned across the table the least bit, eyes narrowing as he sensed triumph.

Dexter rested his chin in his hand, likewise leaning in toward the dark-haired teen. "Promise to come over later and help me with all this homework I'm not getting done?"

It was a win-win situation. Closer they moved.

"I'll even carry your books."

A hairsbreadth apart.

"You've got yourself a deal, Mr. Astronomonov," breathed Dexter.

And he held up his end of the pact and kissed him.


End file.
